


Fraternal

by Idreamofhazel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (dean consents and then roofies are used), F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 00:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15545925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idreamofhazel/pseuds/Idreamofhazel
Summary: You watched numbly as he tore through a man, then two more.Like tissue paper.Tissue paper people.His neck craned around almost 180 degrees to look right at you through the lens of the camera. For the first time in eight months, you looked into the unrecognizable eyes of your twin, his black orbs deeply set and utterly remorseless.This is not my own work. The author deleted their blog for work purposes but gave explicit permission for anyone to save and repost their works. Since I loved their stories so much and can't bear the thought of them being deleted forever, even if they aren't finished, I'm reposting them here.Written by HolyWaterBucketChallenge on Tumblr.





	1. Tissue Paper People

**Reader**  
You felt the familiar burn hit the back of your throat and you swallowed the amber liquid down, feeling the warmth fill your belly as the drink began to numb your senses. Dean sat next to you on the neighboring barstool. Sam had passed out in the hotel earlier that evening after an exhausting hunt which spanned several sleepless nights. 

Shortly after you unlocked the door to your hotel room you had caught your third wind, too fidgety to even consider lying down. You knocked gently on the adjacent door. Dean answered, his restlessness apparent as he eagerly offered to go with you.

As Dean finished his drink he tapped the glass on the counter, motioning to the bartender for two more. 

“Oh, honey, I’m good.” You half raised your glass. Dean shook his head and clapped a big hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing therapeutic circles around a thick knot in your back you weren’t aware you had.

“Yeah, I know. You’re always fine.” Dean gave you a sideways glance accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “You’ve been off the past few days. I can tell.” Dean pushed the refill your way and tipped his glass towards yours as a salute before taking a sip. “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”

You smirked, nodding your head as you stared into the dark wood grain of the bar, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.” Dean shrugged in response.

In spite of the convincing facade he pretended that man was carrying enough. He didn’t need to carry your shit too. Besides, it was family business. Of all people Dean understood. Some things you just need to keep to yourself.

You were closing in on the demon you had been hunting, it was only a matter of time before it showed itself. You had met the brothers a few months back as you were following the same omens. They didn’t know you had a line on the hellspawn, you just needed to pin down where it was holed up so you could take care of it once and for all.

They way you should have the first time.

 **Dean**  
Y/N was more reserved than you had ever seen her. Normally she was chipper, almost frighteningly so. You weren’t used to this pensive behavior. It was unnerving to be without the familiar sarcasm and banter that usually flowed so easily between you both. You hadn’t known Y/N very long, but there was something between you that you both recognised in each other early on. 

A sameness. 

Maybe it has something to do with the thing she never talked about, the thing that right now danced on the peripheral of her distant stare.

God…you just wished she would talk to you about it.  
In time, maybe. Maybe not.  
You couldn’t force it.

With everything going on with Sammy you could bet they hadn’t been a blast to be around. When Y/N found out your brother was missing his soul she had been surprisingly calm about the whole thing, taking it in stride, and then asking how she could help.

Y/N, asking you how she could help you get your brother’s soul back? You didn’t know quite how to respond.

Frankly, you were expecting to have to defend Sammy from her reputable skill as a hunter, but she seemed to understand his need to protect his brother. Y/N took the time to understand, to listen, not something most hunters would have risked.

She was something, that’s for sure.

“You know we’re close to that demon you were looking for? The one that’s been killing its way through West Texas? Before Sammy went to bed he was up reading reports of the last vic. He was able to pull the surveillance feed so now we have an idea of what the bastard looks like.” Y/N didn’t seem too excited. In fact, his comment seemed to startle her out of whatever fog she’d been in.

“That’s great.” She was hesitant as she drained the remainder of the amber liquid from her tumblr. “We’ll finally get the son of a bitch.” She muttered into her empty cup, frowning at her own words.

“Y/N…” You began, holding yourself back. You didn’t want to push, but this was getting ridiculous. Something in her eyes, the way she looked up into yours with a warning written across her expression halted your tongue.

“Thanks, Dean.” She spoke earnestly as she pulled a couple of twenties out of her wallet and pushed them across the bar. “I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

Not knowing what to say, you grunted acknowledgement as she slid off the barstool and sauntered lazily out of the bar.

 **Reader**  
You pulled the hotel door closed and tossed the room keys on the stained table before sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. You reluctantly opened your laptop. Sure enough, there was a link to a hosted video file from Sam waiting in your inbox. You hesitated, not sure you wanted to see it, not sure you would be able to contain yourself, especially not with the amount you’d had to drink. You steeled your resolve and heard the trackpad on your keyboard snap twice as the video buffered.

It looked like some sort of CCTV of a downtown area. Public, but not crowded. It was nighttime, making the grainy film hard to discern, but as soon as he stepped into frame your breath caught. 

You recognised the silhouette, his hair, his confident stride.  
Your brother.

You watched numbly as he tore through a man, then two more.  
Like tissue paper.  
Tissue paper people.

You felt your breath hitch as you tried to block out all the images that flooded back. His lacrosse games. His graduation. The long talks you would have in the dead of night when you knew something was keeping him up.

Now, there was no one for you to call on nights like these when you found yourself unable to sleep. Afraid to dream.

You watched in horror as his neck craned around almost 180 degrees to look right at you through the lens of the camera. For the first time in eight months you looked into the unrecognizable eyes of your twin, his black orbs deeply set and utterly remorseless. His expression twisted into an almost gleeful smile at the sight of the carnage he wrought.

You slammed your laptop closed and stood suddenly, pacing around the hotel room. You couldn’t stop running your fingers through your hair, clearly agitated.

Lashing out at the empty air you grabbed your keys from the table, whipping them into the sliding glass mirror of the closet. Your reflection shattered into several thousand pieces but that wasn’t enough. Without hesitation you overturned the kitchen table and viciously kicked the wooden chair, watching with satisfaction as it splintered and broke under the heel of your boot. There were tears streaming down your cheeks, dark with the lingering mascara and day old make-up. 

Abruptly your hotel room door slammed open as Dean barreled in, startling you. The handle of the door hit the wall with such force that it reverberated off the plaster, jerking you violently back to reality.

Fuck. You’d forgotten they were right next door. Dean stopped when he saw your face, twisted with grief. You looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” you gestured absently at the wreckage. Dean tucked his gun into his belt and gently closed the door behind him.

There was a hesitancy to his words, “Jeez, Y/N. It’s just a chair. What did it ever do to you?” Dean raised an eyebrow, trying to break the tension, doing the only thing he knew how to do in situations like these. Your face split into a grin and you laughed, feeling the damn break inside your chest as you cackled. Covering your face with your hands to stifle your laughter you realised that you weren’t laughing at all. Your chest heaved in broken sobs as you turned away from the older Winchester, mortified.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. I didn’t-I was just kiddin’….” He started, walking crossing the room in two long strides and wrapping himself around you in a protective embrace.

You realised with sudden nausea that the last time someone had hugged you like this was the day you let Alex go. The last day you met him for lunch and he told you he was going on a trip with some friends after graduation, backpacking…somewhere…you couldn’t remember.

You did remember standing up from the table at the restaurant and giving him a hug goodbye, that was the last time you had been held by anyone.

The day your brother died.

 **Dean**  
You heard it just as your keys entered the lock of your hotel room door. At first you faltered, thinking it might have just been the slamming of a door, or the sound of a couple having a good time….

Then you heard glass shattering.

Immediately your hand went to the gun, snug against the small of your back. Your thumb pulled the hammer back steadily and you braced yourself. Standing in the shadow of Y/N’s door you pivoted on your left leg and planted the heel of your right foot next to the handle with considerable force. The frame rippled and gave way as you charged inside. Out of force of habit you scoped out the adjoining rooms, checking the bathroom and the back window of the bedroom. You finally allowed your eyes come to rest on her face and you faltered.

You saw the full scope of the damage: glass, table, and splintered chair. Your first thought was to reach out and hold her, but you pulled back as your eyes locked. Something about her expression reminded you of a cornered, feral animal. 

She wore an unveiled version of the expression from the bar earlier that evening, her pain exposed like a raw nerve. You could see Y/N’s face twisted with shame as she bore down on her wild emotions, trying to regain her composure.

You knew what it felt like to want to break things.

You knew what it meant to hold onto your fear, your anger, your loss because it was all that was tangible….

The need to hold on to your anger so tightly that you didn’t realize had become too much to swallow and you choked on it. You had felt it too. 

You did the only thing you could, you tried to pretend it wasn’t there. You forced it down for her, you tried to squash her pain with your sarcasm. “Jeez, Y/N. It’s just a chair. What did it ever do to you?”

You watched as her eyes flickered, reminding you briefly of the old Y/N. The only Y/N you knew before this most recent hunt. You watched as she raised her hands to cover her face. You knew immediately that you had made the wrong choice. 

The face you looked forward to seeing every morning at breakfast, the face you looked to for reassurance during recent hunts, was now turned deliberately away from you in shame and grief.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. I didn’t mean….” You felt yourself closing the distance between you, wrapping her in your arms and cradling her to your chest as she tried with everything she had to choke back the sobs threatening to break free from her throat.

You watched as she slowed her resistance and her fists curled tightly into your jacket. Before you realised what you were doing you had your forearm under her knees and you were cradling her shoulders in your arms, carrying her to the bed. Y/N yelped in protest, wriggling in your arms as you placed her gently on the sheets.

“Shoes.” You demanded. She kicked them off as you grabbed the remote on the bedside table, reaching across her body, feeling the tension as you pulled away and flicked the power button with your thumb.

“Let’s see….Die Hard?” You looked down at her face. She stared back up at you, her features accentuated by the emotional outburst. You couldn’t help but think of how much you wanted to run your fingers through her hair and kiss her swollen eyelids, to tell her that she wasn’t alone in this…but you were afraid.

Y/N nestled her chin into the crook of your neck, her head resting gently on your collarbone you heard her muffled reply, “Bruce Willis is a badass…and explosions are surprisingly therapeutic.” 

You chuckled, nuzzling the top of her head, “Yippee ki-yay.” You pressed the button on the remote then tossed it deftly across the room as you watched the opening credits roll across the screen. You felt Y/N take a deep breath, sighing into the nape of your neck. You couldn’t help the shiver that worked its way through you at her closeness.

Resting your arm over her shoulder you felt dainty fingers twine tentatively with yours and you thumbed the back of her hand. You took in the moment, closing your eyes as you stroked the pad of your thumb over the length of her fingers. You breathed deep, inhaling the scent of Y/N’s lavender soap, resting your chin gently on her head.

“Thank you.” She whispered, barely audible above the opening dialogue of the film. You frowned, placing your fingers under her chin to tilt her face up to yours.

“We all have bad days.” You stared into Y/N’s face, so close you were nearly sharing the same breath.

“Dean..?” Y/N drew herself up against you and gently pressed her lips to yours in a tentative kiss, running her tongue along your bottom lip, requesting permission. You responded eagerly, pulling her in close, your lips crushing against hers in a bruising kiss. Wrapping your arm around her body you pulled her on top of you and tangled your fingers in her hair as Y/N slowly unbuttoned your shirt.

You gently pulled her face away from yours and searched her expression for any signs of doubt, “Are you sure you want this?”

“No, Dean.” She responded, your stomach knotting with guilt as you started to sit up, pulling away from her. Y/N’s hand pressed into your chest holding you to the bed forcefully, “I need this.”


	2. Betrayal

**Betrayal**  
You pushed Dean back onto the bed and proceeded to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaning down to press your lips to his. Dean respond eagerly as you knelt on either side of his chest and you pulled your shirt over your head. You ground yourself into his length, small moans escaping your mouth each time your sensitive mound vibrated across the hardness in his jeans.

Dean cupped the back of your neck with his hands and tried to roll you over, but you were so full of suppressed frustration and rage you weren’t about to let him off easy. Dean was willing and you needed release.

You placed your palms in his and pressed your chest against Dean’s, forcing him back down into the mattress. He sensed your aggravation, shifting his hands to the middle of your back and removing your bra as you sat back up on your knees. You massaged yourself, relieved as they came unbound. Dean groaned under your hips and you reached down to take his hands, replacing yours on your breasts.

He seemed hesitant as you took control, clearly not accustomed to being the submissive party, but the lack of control as you led made him want you all the more. You slid your way down his chest, licking and biting the whole way, and he couldn’t protest in the slightest.

“Take them off.” You whispered, your voice husky with need. Dean was all too eager to oblige. You lifted your hips as he shucked his pants and boxers as you came down on his length, your wetness encased him in one swift motion. Dean arched his back and groaned as you rotated your hips, grinding your clit on his abdomen. He gasped and rolled you over on your belly, pulling your back against his chest. 

You knelt, both leaning heavily on each other as his hand slipped between your legs and you ground yourself along his shaft. Dean bit your shoulder as he took you to the hilt, over and over, filling you from behind. 

As if he could sense what you needed he took over. He was carnal and vivid, his teeth and tongue roughly marking your neck as he rubbed his rough, thick fingers over your nub. You whimpered as you came, the tightness in your belly breaking in a waterfall over his need.

“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Dean wasn’t expecting it so soon and his movements became irregular as he jerked into you, groaning as he followed shortly after. Your hand fisted into his short hair as you slid up and down, taking everything he had to give. You rode it out until he collapsed gently on top of you, twining his fingers with yours.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this tonight, but I can’t say that I didn’t want it. Or think about it.” You could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck as he whispered gently. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath under the weight of Dean Winchester and he pulled out of you slowly, hissing at how tight you still were. You felt the heavy muscle of his arms encircle your waist as you draped your own arms over his, twining your fingers together.

“Don’t worry, it’s a temporary state. I just have my moments. Don’t we all?”

Dean chuckled, pulling you closer as he snuggled into your shoulder.

“I’m going to get some water. All that work left me a little parched.”

Dean laughed out loud this time ending with a throaty yawn, stretching to take up the bed in full as you stood to grab water from the kitchen. “Would you grab one for me?”

You nodded, hoping that you wouldn’t have to offer. You hated doing this to Dean, but you loved your brother more than you could ever come to love the Winchesters. Alex was family, you told yourself as you poured the powder into his water, stirring it with your finger. You only had one brother, one twin. You came into this world together and you wouldn’t leave it without him.

“Thanks Y/N.” He muttered, his voice full of sleep as you handed it over. Dean downed more than three quarters of the glass and you winced, more than enough. Poor guy would be out for a couple of days if he had a tolerance like most. You crawled back into bed next to him, hating yourself more as you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

“I had been thinking about this too, for longer than you can imagine.”

* * *

As you felt his breathing even out you stood, pulling clothes over your body in shame. Trying to cover yourself in front of the only man that had ever shown you kindness in the face of your family trauma. Part of you loved him, that much you knew, but you could never justify leaving Alex to whatever had consumed him. 

Not for a boy. No. A man, but not a man who would understand the sacrifice you had to make. 

Alex was your brother, your blood. No matter the state of him.

You fished the keys to Dean’s beloved Impala out of his pocket and whispered a quiet apology as you snuck out of the hotel, leaving the door unlocked so you could re-enter easily. You popped the trunk and as soon as you eyes came across what you sought a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Fuck…” You slid Ruby’s knife out of its place in the arsenal and slipped it into your belt, closing the trunk as quietly as you could. That was all you needed, anything more would be cruel. If you were going to do what you had set your mind to that was the only thing that you would take with you. As you crept inside the hotel you placed Dean’s keys gently inside his jeans pocket and took one moment to watch his face as he slept. 

He was so gentle when he wanted to be….You knew that this time was the last you would ever see his face so kind. 

Bending down across his body you tucked strands of hair behind your ear. Kissing his temple, his cheek, then his lips - you willed as much love and remorse for your actions into your ministrations as you could. Standing swiftly, you moved to the door, locking it behind you.

“I am so sorry, Dean.”

You walked three blocks over to the nearest highway exit and thumbed a ride to the address Sam had pinned down in your email.

You didn’t look back.


	3. Roofied

**Grief | Reader**  
You couldn’t remember where you heard it, but somewhere you remembered hearing that living with your grief was like swimming in the ocean tide.

Some days you would have calm seas, others you would have hurricanes.

There was no getting around it it.  
Today was a hurricane.

Have you ever tried to swim inland in a riptide?  
I didn’t think so. You wouldn’t be here now.  
You have to swim with the current, not against it.

Grief is the same.  
You have to feel it.

You have to let it take over, if only for a moment.

Swim with the current.  
Feel it.  
Absorb it.  
Let it wash over you.

Only then will you find that you can swim with the tide and become stronger for having survived.

Sitting in the back of a Greyhound bus on your way into the city you were thankful that there weren’t many passengers. Normally you would have Dean to lean on, even if only for a moment.

Now there was just you and the cold steel of the knife you had stolen.

You had survived.  
Alex hadn’t.

Your head leaned against the smudged bus window and you felt yourself bite the inside of your lip to quell the tears. Alex might still be in there, you weren’t sure. Speculation would do nothing but make things worse.

For now, you chose to squash the tide and know that the monster that you were making from your grief would be put to good use.

 **Roofied | Dean**  
Dean awoke to a pounding on his door.

His head was swimming. He felt almost drunk but he knew it was well into the next day by the feel of how well he slept.

He shouldn’t still be this much of a mess.

Dean felt along the bed for Y/N and squinted, lifting his head from the pillow when his hand came up empty.

“Y/N….” He groaned into his pillow. Something was very, very wrong. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick but he sure as hell felt terrible.

Dean heard the repetitive heavy knocking three more times before he heard someone jimmying the lock. He pulled a knife from under the mattress and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He was very surprised to find himself on the floor looking up at his brother.

“Dean?” Sam was astounded. Dean hadn’t been in their room this morning. He checked the Impala and then Y/N’s room. When he opened the door Sam was shocked to find that nearly everything was out of place and broken. The mirror. The table. The chair. Jesus, even the curtains were shredded.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked authoritatively, gun drawn and standing in the doorway.

“Y/N….is she with you?” Dean groaned, shielding his eyes from the offensive sunlight streaming in the hotel door. Sam’s brow furrowed and he immediately took initiative.

“Keys. Where are they?” Sam growled. 

Dean fished around the floor for his jeans, upon finding them he tossed the whole of the fabric at his brother. Sam caught his brother’s pants deftly and rifled through the pockets retrieving the keys to the Impala. Sam strode out of the hotel with purpose and Dean could hear the familiar creak of Baby’s trunk from the floor of the hotel.

Dean knew he should have been more concerned with the whereabouts of Y/N and what might have happened to his Baby, but honestly? The carpet fibers were just…so…mesmerizing….

“Dean!” His brother’s call erupted from outside the door.

With a great effort the older Winchester brought himself to his feet and stumbled outside. Stupidly grasping at empty air, Sam had to catch him before he face-planted on the asphalt.

“Jesus, Dean. What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam struggled to pull his brother to the passenger’s side of the car.

“I….roofied, Sammy.” He chuckled stupidly lolling his head into his brother’s shoulder, giving Sam a bear hug.

Sam rolled his eyes and all but stuffed Dean into the car. He walked around the driver’s side and jammed the keys in the ignition. The familiar purr vibrated up the seat in such a pleasant way that it almost coaxed Dean back into a coma.

“She took the knife.” Sam spit. 

“Hmmmm?” Dean hummed, resting his head outside the open window like a drunk dog trying to regain his bearings.

“Ruby’s knife….Dean! Get your face in the damn car!” Sam grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and yanked him back inside the Impala, his head hitting the roof with a dense thud.

“Ow!” Dean wasn’t quite with it yet but he could remember enough of the previous night to be worried, “No, no, no…we went to bed together and….” 

And nothing. That was all he could remember.

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know why you slept with her. I could see it coming from a mi-”

Dean’s fist cracked across Sam’s jaw with a satisfying pop. The younger Winchester’s head whipped into the window and nearly cracked the glass. Sam reeled from Dean’s fist steering the car into oncoming traffic, he quickly whipped the wheel back around straightening out the Impala.

“What the hell?” Sam yelled incredulously.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.” Dean snarled, “You have no right. You have no soul. You don’t get a vote.” He rubbed his knuckles, licking the fresh cut that erupted between his third and fourth finger. “Drive.”

Sam’s foot pushed the pedal down to the floor of the car and he quickly snapped it into fifth gear, grinding his teeth together in visible irritation.

 **Reunited | Reader**  
As you stepped off the bus into the town square you could see that there was still police tape up where Alex had torn into those people. You turned your head away from the brown stains covering the street.

If you hadn’t seen it for yourself you never would have believed it.

You knew that your brother would never be able to live with himself if he knew what he had done. If he was awake in there you knew he certainly didn’t want to be.

He was such a gentle kid. You always had to be the one to step up and defend him. Alex was a big guy as he got older, but even with his size he felt bad enough just tackling other kids in Lacrosse and Football. To ever consider throwing a punch, much less what you had seen him do the other night?

You wondered if it even made an attempt to stick to Alex’s old patterns. You ran a search on license plates and on all of his credit cards just like Sam had taught you. If there was any semblance of the old Alex left she knew for sure he wouldn’t stay in a hotel. He hated the thought of sharing sheets and other intimate articles with other people.

He always used to joke that if he brought a black light on tour with the Lacrosse team that their rooms would look like the abstract gallery at the MoMA. Alex always brought his sleeping bag and slept inside it in the bed with his own pillow.

My little germaphobe, you chuckled.

You set up camp at a local bar for the night, ordering whatever the waitress recommended and a stiff drink while you pulled out your laptop to check your search for updates.

Nothing yet.

When you heard the chair at your high top table drag across the barroom floor your eyes shot up to meet the familiar brown with flecks of blue.

“Hello little sister.” It purred, resting your brother’s face in his hands and staring across the table with dark intent. “Been wondering if you were going to show up.”

You looked around to see if anyone else was watching, for a late night the bar was full. There was no way you would be able to do anything about it here.

“You know, he’s only older by twelve minutes. Hardly makes me the little sister.” You fired back, fisting the knife in your jacket pocket.

“You know, Y/N….after the accident? You know the one…what was it fifteen kids on your brothers lacrosse bus?” You bit the inside of your cheek, tasting blood, trying to keep your composure. “Poor Alex, near to death, all sorts of bent and broken. We struck a deal….he and I.”

“My brother would never.” You hissed, pulling yourself closer to the table.

Alex’s eyes flashed black, “Oh but he did, squirt. He did.”

Using your childhood nickname was a low blow.

“I don’t believe it for a second. I know my brother. I know you don’t need to make a deal to take a meat-suit and I know for damn sure he’d rather die than let you ride him around like a fucking pony at a petting zoo.” You watched Alex’s face split into an unnaturally wide grin as he laid his hand over yours.

“Still, it doesn’t change the fact-” You couldn’t listen anymore. You flipped your hand over the top of your brother’s, yanked the knife out of your pocket, and pinned his arm to the table. You watched with morbid curiosity as orange lightning ripped through his arm up to the shoulder.

“Fuck you.” Pulling the knife out of Alex’s arm you lunged across the table and into open air earning a worried glance from the other patrons. Quickly you tucked the knife back inside your jacket and threw cash down on the tabletop. It took only a moment to collect your belongings and head two blocks over to the nearest hotel.

You were done hiding.  
This would end soon, maybe not tonight, but soon.


	4. Together

**Winchesters**  
“We don’t even know where she is Dean, that guy said he thought it might have been Y/N, but he didn’t get a good look. She doesn’t want to be found.” Sam leaned against the Impala, picking at his fingers.

“I know, Sam. I know, but I can’t just leave her out there. Not to mention she has the knife.” Dean grumbled over a map spread out over the hood. “What about her phone? Can we track her that way?”

Sam shrugged and opened the car door to pull his laptop out of his bag. “I just need her number and I can give it a try.” Dean took his phone out of his pocket and tossed it at Sam, who caught it deftly.

After about twenty five minutes of Sam tapping away at the keyboard and cursing under his breath he spoke, “Got her. She’s about 75 miles East of here and it doesn’t look like she’s moving.” Sam looked up at his brother expectantly.

“Get in.” Dean banged his fist on the hood of the Impala in frustration and slammed the door as he slid into the driver’s seat - it would take them a little over an hour with traffic and it was already getting dark.

**Reader**  
You knew from the smell of sulfur that he was close. You had tracked Alex down to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. He wasn’t alone. At least one, two….three other black eyed bastards guarded the entrances to the building and that was just a few too many for your level of comfort.

You ducked out of sight and rocked back on your heels.  
You had the knife - they didn’t know that.

Perhaps….

It would be risky - stupidly risky. How else would you be able to get close enough without getting killed on sight? Only Alex knew what you looked like and from your casing of the site he would be inside, not on guard duty.

Inside the stolen car you fumbled with the wires until the engine turned over.

Your hands were shaking.  
You just hoped your voice would be more steady.

As you approached the warehouse in the car you rolled down the window and stuck your hand out to wave, “Excuse me?”

You heard your voice leave your mouth but it didn’t sound like your own.  
It was innocent, unsure.

Civilian.

“Hi! I’m so sorry to bother you but I’m looking for campgrounds that are supposed to be in this area,” you gestured aimlessly at the gear in the back of the car, “and I was wondering if you could give me directions.”

You saw the leer creep over the face of the burly meatsuit as it sidled up to your window, the other two watched closely. One of them stood about fifteen feet in front of the car, observing the interaction.

“It’s right here on the map, can you maybe just tell me where we are?” You smiled shyly, “I’m not from ‘round here.” The demon leaned on top of the car and dipped his head down to the open window.

“Sure. Let’s see whatcha got there.”

You grinned and reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out a large and wrinkled map, the knife tucked underneath. As the demon bent to look you angled the blade just so underneath the surface of the paper and drove it into the skull of the poor inhabited man with brutal force. The body crackled angrily with a coppery-white light as it slumped against the car.

Without hesitation you slammed your foot on the gas and ripped the knife from the corpse as you angled the steering wheel. You were too close. The black eyed onlooker didn’t have enough time to smoke out. 

The front of your borrowed Cadillac smashed into the torso of the second meatsuit and you didn’t let off the gas until it was pinned between the brick of the warehouse and the engine block.

Your head whipped against the dash, but the seatbelt saved you from the majority of the damage. The demon, pinned but not dead, scrabbled viciously at the hood of the car trying to get at you through the fractured windshield. The acrylic nails of the possessed desperate housewife made an odd hollow clicking on the hood of the car as you stepped gingerly out of the vehicle.

You wasted no time - Alex would know you had found him. Driving the knife into the neck of the second demon you felt more at ease. Two to one, much more manageable odds.

The last of the sentinels charged and you dropped to your knees to avoid his fist, landing a kick to the side of his left leg. You heard a crack as the demon dropped and you scrambled for the hilt of the knife just as thick fingers closed around your neck.

Against your better judgement you began to panic as you felt yourself unable to draw breath. Small gulps of air came in choked gasps as you struggled fruitlessly against your attacker. You had maybe another thirty seconds, a full minute if you were lucky, before your brain shut down in full panic or unconsciousness.

While you still had command of your senses you made the decision to go completely limp. There would be no way you could overpower the demon, he was at least three times your size and you had no leverage.

Your only hope was the knowledge that Alex wanted you alive.

As you forced your breath to even, resisting the urge to cough and gasp for air. You felt your captor’s hold loosen. 

The gravel shifted under the man’s feet as he sat back on his heels.   
Warmth from the sun above you disappeared as a shadow covered your face and you felt the meaty fingers release your neck.

Without warning you clutched the dagger in your right hand and swept across the demon’s throat. Shocked, the black eyed bastard clutched at the wound as copper lightning tore through him and he slumped over your abdomen - dead.

“Oh for fuck’s sake you’re heavy.” You groaned, squirming out from under the corpse and dusting off your ripped and bloodied jeans.

You didn’t know that you were mentally prepared for what would come next as your thoughts turned to your brother. You knew the likelihood of his survival.

Alex had been gone a little over a year now.  
Even if he was still in there somehow you didn’t want to imagine how much of your brother was held together by the demon alone.

Steeling yourself against the possibilities you shouldered through the front door of the compound with your knife raised. 

He knew you were there - no point in hiding it.

“Alex! You called out, your voice reverberating hollowly through the empty building. It was a maze of hallways and empty offices. “ALEX!”

“What?” Your brother’s defiant voice you knew so well echoed back from the darkness. “What is it I can do for you, sister?”

“Alex, if you’re still in there I’ve come to take you home.” You ignored the demon’s attempt to antagonize you. 

There was no back up this time, one slip and you were dead. As you made your way towards the sound of your brother’s voice you edged around the corners of empty doorways, clearing each one as you went.

A smell of rancid meat wafted from the depths of the compound and you groaned, covering your mouth with your shoulder as best you could while still keeping your gun drawn.

It was getting worse, the smell was…thicker somehow and you dreaded every minute the longer you were there. It was almost unbearable as you turned the corner of the nearest office.

You couldn’t help the sound that tore from your throat at the sight before you.

It was a massacre.  
No way to tell how many.  
There were too many pieces.

“Boo.”

You heard him before your mind had time to register any pain. It was only after the cold steel left your body that you knew how badly you had screwed up.

Dark spots danced across your vision and you tried to think but the air around you felt thick, it was hard to draw breath.  
Reaching down you felt your abdomen.  
Your fingers came back damp and warm.

Your last thought before the dark spots consumed your sight was of how much you wished you weren’t so alone.

**Winchesters**  
It took them an hour to get into town and close to another to find your phone smashed outside on the grounds of the compound next to the slain demons. The scent of sulfur was palpable and there were definite signs of struggle.

“I can’t believe she took out three all on her own.” Sam rested his hands on his hips and looked at the scene appreciatively.

The sight of the odds outside made Dean nauseous. God knows what they would encounter on the inside. An invisible sense of urgency goaded Dean into a run towards the double metal doors, “We have to hurry.” 

Sam followed in a trot, begrudgingly bringing up the rear.

* * *

Once through the double doors the smell nearly knocked Dean off his feet, “Jesus Christ what is that?”

Sam flinched at the odor and covered his nose with his flannel, “Whatever it is - it’s long past dead.” The younger Winchester drew his pistol and cocked the weapon, silently motioning with the muzzle for his brother to take the lead.

Dean had already begun moving stealthily down the hall, stepping carefully over debris and clearing the rooms as he went. Sam covered his brother until they came to a locked door along the Western wall of the compound.

None of the other doors were locked, why should this be any different?

“Sammy,” Dean hissed quietly, motioning for his brother to get ready. There would be no element of surprise if he tried to pick the lock, only one other option.

Dean braced his left leg and pivoted to his right foot as he threw his full weight into the door. It swung open violently and Dean managed to check three of the four blind spots in the room before the smell punched him in the stomach and he gagged, retching on the floor.

Sam covered his brother while Dean adjusted to the scene before him.

At least forty bodies in various states of decomposition and dismemberment littered the floor. The cement tiles were caked in viscous brown and crimson stains and it was clear that this room was the origin of the smell.

Dean gagged again before grabbing his brother by his shirt collar and dragging him outside. They both reached simultaneously to close the door behind them.

Dean made his way down the hall, spitting the taste of the foul air from his mouth, “We have to hurry before Y/N ends up like one of those…” Dean gestured aimlessly towards the door, trying to find a word to describe what he had seen.

“Corpses?” His brother’s deadpan suggestion rang hollowly down the hallway. Dean looked over at him in disbelief. Sam shrugged.

“I am not going to miss Cylon Sam.” The older Winchester mumbled.

After a few moments the hallway opened up into a cavernous common space.  
There was something on the floor.  
Someone on the floor.

“Y/N!” Dean rushed to your side in a frenzy, tucking his gun into the small of his back. He reached over gently to cradle your head while he examined he extent of the damage. The wound in your back had gone clear through your abdomen and the amount of blood you had lost was already life threatening.

Dean bent to listen for breath and check for a pulse.  
Nothing.

He didn’t have time to register the possibilities before he heard the hollow clap-clap-clap of slow mocking applause behind him. As he spun to the source of the intrusion he saw Sam already had his gun trained on the demon, who was approaching them with a startling level of confidence.

That’s when he saw it.  
The resemblance.

“Oh my God.” Dean whispered.

Everyone in the family always joked that you and Alex had similar traits, but the one thing you held in common were your eyes.

Heterochromia Iridium. A rare genetic marker that above all other consistencies made it clear.

“Jesus, you’re related.” Sam added.

“Twins.” The demon added casually, inspecting his handiwork. “Just a few minutes apart. Or we were…” Alex trailed off with a smirk.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean made a move for his gun and felt an overwhelming force punch him in the sternum, sending him sailing backwards to hit the concrete floor with a smack.

“Dean!” Sam cried out, firing three shots at the demon who shook them off like flea bites. With a flick of his wrist Alex ripped the gun out of Sam’s hands and with another concise movement Sam found himself pressed helplessly against a nearby column - frozen in place.

Alex sauntered over to Dean where he lay sprawled on the floor, deliberately stepping over your body.

“You Winchester boys have such a reputation. I assumed this would be much more difficult.” Alex rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “Now…I’m under strict instruction to bring you in with a pulse, but all things considered I think that can be interpreted a bit loosely. Don’t you agree?”

The demon began twisting its hands in a frightening repetition of precise finger movements - all the while intensely focused on its next victim. Dean’s limbs jerked and snapped in awkward angles and the suddenness of the first broken bone tore a scream from his lips.

**Reader**  
It was the screaming that woke you.

Your vision was cloudy and the vertigo was almost unbearable but you recognised that voice.

He was your brother.  
Your responsibility.

Feeling around blindly your fingers grazed the edge of the dagger discarded on the floor beside you. Gathering all the energy you could to roll onto your side you bit your knuckles to keep from crying out.

You had to get to Dean.

As you stood your vision went white and you were afraid you would once again lose consciousness. Gripping the pommel of the knife with determination and taking deep breaths you slowly made your way. One foot in front of the other.

When you were mere feet away you lifted the blade but near to all your resolve was depleted.

It was your brother.  
Surely….

Dean opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of your bloodied and broken form. The shock on his face was enough to distract the demon from his incantation to turn blackened eyes to meet yours.

His body was riddled with bullet holes.  
You could smell the death rolling off of him.  
This was not your brother.

As you fell into your twin the weight of your body carried Ruby’s dagger into his chest and you knew you would both leave this world the way you came into it: 

_Together._


End file.
